The weeks dragged by, and we heard nothing from Edward.

Esme worried constantly. He hadn't been answering any of her calls – or anyone else's for that matter.

Carlisle had called Tanya. Both she and her family expressed their concern and sympathy, though all of us could hear the quiet note of smug hope in Tanya's smooth, familiar voice as she talked to us through loudspeaker down the phone. She would, of course, be pricking up her perfect ears at the news.

All of them had tried to help; calling Edward on his cell phone just like us. Eleazar had even invited us over to stay, but Carlisle politely declined this offer – for now, at least.

We all knew, deep down, that our calls really weren't helping a thing. Edward just wanted to be left alone. But we couldn't stop. All of us, me included, had a secret fear. It was unlikely, I knew, silly really to consider, but we still worried – Esme especially – if this went on much longer…was suicide something we should be fearing?

Then, towards the end of November, Edward answered one of my millions of texts.

Alice. Please tell everyone not to worry. Heading South. Remember your promise. E.

I had remembered my promise. Remembered and kept it well. Visions of Bella were constantly playing at the edge of my sight – but I forced them away with renewed determination, trying instead to distract myself with one thing or another.

Carlisle had started at Cornell, and also got a night job in central Ithaca. Esme meanwhile had silently begun to research up on a few historical houses on the outskirts of town. We were all trying to distract ourselves, in our own ways, Jasper included. He hunted almost every single day, driven by a new, bleak sort of determination. Both of us had driven down with Carlisle when he went to Cornell, and Jasper had insisted on staying a while, testing himself again and again among humans. His expression was so viciously determined as we walked down streets or through parks that people stared more than ever, with fear as well as awe.

Of course, I knew why he was doing it. Why he was trying so desperately hard to perfect his restraint and control.

But what he was trying to make up for wasn't going to bring Edward back.

And me? I had my own way of distracting.

I opened my huge, new, blue-painted wardrobe door. On the very top shelf, right at the back, behind countless boxes of shoes, stuck out a little scrap of material. It belonged to the item I was looking for. I bit my lip, calculating the height, then reached up as high as I could, right up on tip toes, hands stretching – nearly, nearly, nearly! – but they barely brushed the second shelf. I sighed.

Stupid, miniscule height again…

I glanced round the room, looking for something to use to increase my height. My eyes fell on Jasper's desk chair.

I dragged it over to the wardrobe and hopped up onto it, reaching for the cloth again.

Still too small!

Growling in frustration, I jumped down and darted to the bed, where I'd been sorting through clean clothes this morning. I picked up two big piles of Jasper's shirts, and made them into a height-boosting heap on the chair. There. Pleased with myself, I scrambled up again, and stretched up on tip-toes for the fabric.

STILL TOO SMALL…

"Dang it!" I muttered, fighting the urge to kick the wardrobe – then reached for the pillows sitting at one end of our bed. I pressed them into place, then jumped up on my contraption yet again. I stretched as high as I could, giving little hops to gain height. The chair wobbled unsteadily and groaned in complaint. My fingers just managed to grasp the edge of my ancient, ragged old asylum robe…

Yes!

I yanked it down, and ran my fingers over the faded fabric, feeling that strange, detached feeling I always got when I examined it. All I had. All I had left of my past. It felt so odd, holding something that was a total stranger to me, that I must have worn for so much of my human life, yet didn't remember.

It was filthy; cleaner now, since I'd washed it several times before putting it carefully away in my wardrobe, but still permanently stained and dirty. I hadn't even realised what it was till James's video. It didn't really look like anything but a scrap of old cloth – let alone an asylum uniform.

I lifted one of the sleeves close to my face, staring at the letters imprinted on the material.

Alice

Memories rushed through me as I read the name. The only thing I'd had when I'd woken up. The only thing I'd ever, ever known about myself. Alice. My name was Alice.

I rubbed at the stains around the name with a fingernail. I'd have to re-do all my nail polish later. Sigh. Oh well. A few more letters, the ones I knew were there, but difficult to make out so I rarely looked at them, came into blurred view.

Alice B

"Alice B," I whispered out loud. Alice Brendon? Bone? It looked like the space was big enough for about…six letters? Seven?

I sighed.

Help. Where was I going to start? How was I going to begin to research something I had next to no information about? 1900s, Biloxi, asylum, Alice B…fabulous. Even all those 'find your ancestors' programs humans used these days wouldn't be able to do much with my sparse information.

Well, maybe researching the internet wasn't a too bad first step. I could maybe start with asylum records, find all of them in and around Biloxi…but I didn't know if the asylum was even there, just that I'd woken up in Biloxi…maybe I could search my name followed by B, as an initial…

"What are you doing, darlin'?"
I jumped violently out of my dreamy thoughts; I'd been miles away. I swung around to face Jasper…but forgot I was on my spectacular height-boosting contraption.

Uh-oh.

I stepped backwards into nothing, and promptly toppled off the chair. I could have saved myself – but Jasper blurred across the room and caught me before I could, his arms gathering me against his chest. I smiled and slipped my arms round his neck, pecking his lips.

"Thanks."

Jasper shook his head in amusement.

"Alice, what are you doing?" he asked, gesturing to the pillows, clothes and toppled chair lying in a heap on the floor.

"Trying to reach this – look!"

I pushed the material at him as he laid me gently down on the bed, sinking down beside me. He frowned.

"Your asylum robe?"

"Yes. Look here, around the sleeve, remember…?"

He examined the faded material. I waited for him to frown or sigh or react in any of his usual ways – but instead, a tiny, faint smile twitched the edges of his lips.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"Nothing," he murmured, looking the closest to smiling he had in months. He shifted closer to me, scooping his arms around my frame again. I felt his lips against my hair. "Just…this thing brings back memories. All those years ago. 1948…"

I felt a smile grow on my face too. I liked thinking about that year. A lot.

"You were so worried," Jasper murmured, stroking the 'Alice' inscription on the robe. "We spent hours examining this rag…"

"Hours," I agreed, leaning my head on his shoulder. "And all to no use."

I was silent for a moment, lost in though.

"I was thinking maybe about starting with an internet search…you know, see what 'Alice B' brings up?"

"That's a good idea."

"Can I borrow your laptop?"

"Of course."

I smiled, and pulled away from him, hopping off our bed and reaching for his laptop. I carried it back to the bed and clambered on again, tucking my legs up and pressing 'on'.